


Nonverbal

by universecharm



Category: Baman Piderman
Genre: M/M, autistic piderman, autistic pumkin, basically theyre all autistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universecharm/pseuds/universecharm
Summary: Pumkin doesn't talk, and he likes it that way. He has other ways to say what he needs.





	Nonverbal

**Author's Note:**

> Alt title: my me has autism

Pumkin didnt care for words. Touch was a lot more important to him; it held more value than sound ever could. There was the gentle weight of hands on his shoulders, or the angry clenching of his fingers into his palm, the winding of tendrils around his torso. The solid warm comfort of Piderman laying across his back and napping while he reread _Pride and Prejudice_ for the millionth time, tracing his fingertips over the waxy crayon markings on the vandalized pages with an internal sigh.  
  
He moved a lot. Squib and Piderman picked up on his little emotional tells fairly quickly. The little _taptaptap_ of his hands against eachother when he was holding back excitement, the barely contained flapping of his arms when he was overwhelmed, the _stomp stomp stomp_ of his feet when he was embarassed...  
  
Baman needed a bit of translation help, and everyone was thankful for Piderman's high empathy and understanding. (Even if his translations were a little too right sometimes, like when he would mention that when Pumkin was thinking about a special someone his cheeks would go pink and he would wiggle a little in place and tap his face over and over and over where Squib had kissed him, _don't worry, he isnt mad, he thinks you're cute, Squib_! Much to his embarassment.)  
  
He used to be able to shout and laugh and scream but he traded that for something much better, much more real. He did miss it sometimes, though.  
  
He didn't like that words were needed for things, even if it was only sometimes. Luckily, his housemates caught on, and did something he didn't expect.  
  
He never quite knew where their things came from. The fridge was always full and the pantry always well stocked, despite there not being any trips to any grocery store. Pumkin occasionally got new clothes, folded neatly into his drawers, simply arriving in the morning out of nowhere.  
  
_(Sometimes the clothes would have extra little straps and pockets, or a unique pattern stitched lovingly and carefully into the fabric. These were his favorites, for sure.)_  
  
So, Pumkin was surprised when he was called into the living room one morning to his friends all celebrating something. Before he could wonder what was going on, a bundle of paper wrapped around something was shoved joyfully into his arms. He turned it over and glanced up at his friends who were nodding and chanting for him to _open it open it open it hurry up!_  
  
And he opened it.  
  
It was a little rough around the edges. Time had done its toll on the book in his hands, but no amount of poor condition could hinder the excitement bubbling up hot in his chest at the title ' _Sign Language For Beginners_ ' in neat serif across the front cover.  
  
He waved his arms back and forth and bounced on his knees before he pulled his friend-family into a hug, nuzzling into them for a moment before flipping through the book quickly.  
  
"I-I figured we could learn it together! So you don't have to mime things out all the time anymore!" Piderman said, rocking back and forth on his heels and bouncing on the balls of his feet as he flapped his hands together.  
  
Finally, Pumkin found the signs he was looking for, quickly pointing at them and showing his friends, frantically going back and forth between two signs over and over and over.  
  
" _Thank you. I love you. Thank you. I love you. Thank you. I love you_."


End file.
